Jonesing for a Fix
by The Fallen Sky
Summary: She's just another junkie, hopelessly addicted and desperate for her next fix.


Title: Jonesing for a Fix  
Author: The Fallen Sky  
Rating: T  
Pairing: Kick-Ass(Dave)/Hit Girl(Mindy)  
Summary: She's just another junkie, hopelessly addicted and desperate for her next fix.  
Warning: None  
A/N: This is an AU one-shot and is told from Mindy's POV. I know that's not a lot of info, but saying more would lessen the impact and enjoyment of the piece, IMO.

Feedback is welcome and appreciated. Enjoy!

* * *

It starts with a dull ache just behind her eyes. A small throbbing sensation that lets her know it's begun.

Looking at the clock, she's disappointed to see that it's only been 15 minutes, and it'll be at least another 30 minutes before she can do anything to remedy the situation.

She sighs to herself in frustration at how weak she's become. Up until a few weeks ago, she didn't have this problem, couldn't even conceive of having this problem. There was absolutely nothing that could do this to her, and she never would've dreamed such a seemingly innocuous thing could have such a powerful effect on her.

Tamping down her disgust at her weakness, she tries to focus on what the teacher is saying with only mild success.

xXxXxXx

The small throbbing sensation has become a full-blown headache.

Looking at the clock, she's disappointed to see that's only been 10 minutes since the last time she checked, which means it'll be at least another 20 minutes until she can gets some relief.

She sighs to herself, her frustration growing as she realizes just how pathetic she is. She should be better than this, should be able to man up and deal with this, ignore it or just will it away, but she can't.

She rubs her temples in an effort to soothe away the growing pain in her brain and does her best to put it out of her mind and focus on the teacher without much success on either front.

xXxXxXx

Her head feels like it's gonna split open or just explode. It's so bad, her eyes have started to water, and she has to bite her lip to keep from whimpering in discomfort.

Looking at the clock, she's distressed to see that it's only been 5 minutes since the last time she checked, which means she has to suffer through this for at least another 15 minutes before she can finally get the relief she so desperately needs.

She takes a slow, deep breath in an effort to calm herself, her frustration with herself forgotten in favor of the frustration of having to put up with this for 15 more minutes.

She completely ignores the teacher and instead stares at the clock, willing the minute hand to move faster, which it doesn't.

xXxXxXx

Her head hurts so bad, she can't even think, and can barely see or hear. And to make matters worse, her stomach feels queasy, she's broken out in a cold sweat, and it feels like there's bugs crawling all over her skin.

The clock is blurry, and it takes her a few blinks and a squint to bring it into focus. She's disappointed and pissed to see that only 2 minutes have passed since she started staring at the clock, which means she's still got 13 fucking minutes to go before she can put an end to this hell.

She contemplates getting up and just walking out, but that wouldn't really help her, and it might get her sent to the principal's office, which would mean it'd take even longer to get the relief she so desperately needs. Instead, she pulls out her phone, her hand shaking as she sends him a text saying, _Fuckin dying here. Need it bad_. Surprisingly, it only takes a few seconds to receive a reply. As bad as she feels, she still manages a bare hint of a smile as she reads the message, _Hang in there, sweet thang_. _I got wut u need_.

She sets her phone down on her desk and goes back to staring at the clock, but it only lasts a few seconds before she decides she can't take it anymore and rests her head on her forearms against the desk and closes her eyes.

The world around her just kinda falls away as she thinks about what's waiting for her, and she prays that this class will end so she can get to it.

xXxXxXx

She feels like shit on a stick by the time the bell rings, but she's filled with a massive rush of relief that her waiting is almost over.

She gathers her things as quickly as she can, slings her backpack over her shoulder and pushes herself up from her desk and onto shaky legs. Her whole body trembles, and her knees feel like they're about to buckle under her weight. She has to brace herself against the desk for a second to keep from falling as a wave of dizziness and nausea washes over her.

Once she's confident she can stand up straight and not puke all over herself, she makes her way to the door and out into the hallway, moving as quickly as she can on unstable legs.

She pushes her way through the throng of bodies, growing increasingly frustrated and angry as they continue to bump into her and slow her down. She really wishes she had her swords so she could cut a swath through this jungle of gangly teenagers, but she doesn't, so she puts her head down and barrels through as best she can, determined to get to her destination as quickly as possible.

It feels like it takes forever, but as she turns the corner, she catches sight of her destination, and she feels energized, her pace quickening to the point where she's all but running.

Moments later, she plows into a surprisingly sturdy, t-shirt and jeans wearing Dave, nearly knocking the wind out of herself and him. Her hands instinctively grab hold of the soft material of his shirt, fisting it, using it to regain her balance, hold her up and pull him closer.

Before he knows what's happening, she presses her lips to his, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss that has her heart pounding in her chest and thundering in her ears and causes a delightful tingling sensation to ripple through her body from the tips of her toes all the way to the top of her head. The rush of endorphins filling her with nearly overwhelming pleasure and a profound sense of relief as her desperate craving is satisfied.

She's so lost in their kisses, lost in the moment, so lost in _him_ that she's completely unaware of the gawking stares from the passing students as they watch a 13 year old middle school girl making out with an 18 year old high school boy in the middle of the hallway.

They continue kissing, until lack of oxygen causes them to stop, but even then, they only separate enough to breath. Their faces remain barely an inch apart, their eyes closed, their breath mingling, their noses touching.

As they try to calm themselves, she notices that her headache is gone. Her legs are still wobbly, and her stomach is fluttering, but she knows that's from the kissing and not from her withdrawal.

"Feel better?" His voice is low and husky.

A small but genuine smile curves her lips as she responds in a soft, breathy, relief-filled voice, "Much."

Her smile widens when his lips touch hers, a lingering, loving caress that makes her head spin and has her practically swooning.

If you'd told her a few weeks ago that she'd be hopelessly addicted to Dave's kisses, that she'd get physically ill if she went too long without them, she'd have laughed in your face, kicked you in the nuts and said you were full of shit. There's no way she, Mindy Macready, Hit Girl, the scourge of organized crime and the boogeyman to criminals everywhere, would ever be addicted to anything, much less the kisses of some boy.

Of course, things change, sometimes in strange, unexpected and surprisingly delightful ways.


End file.
